MISTRAL.

Press, Volume LXVI, Issue 20092, 22 November 1930, Page 13

MISTRAL.

1830—1930. * (By John Mifsud, in the "New Statesman.")

One evoningj while an old man who lived in Paris sat leisurely eating his dinner, a young countryman of fine physique and handsome features waited without. And after a delav which seemed an eternity Frederic Mistral, a potu of Provence, was admitted into the presence oif Lamartine. The great French writer thus records the interview:—

A }oung man repeated some verses in the soft find nervuua Provencal tongue which reca.leu to my mind by turn J.ntin, the .VI lie grace and the sharpness of the Tuscan tongue ... I took his manuscript to my room, throw it upon the bed, lighted tho lump and bt'RCm to read. That night I had not a minute's Bleep.

Shortly afterwards Lamartine, writing in his "Cours familicr de litteratuve," said: "A true Homeric poet has been born in our time; a primitive poet in a decadent age and one who out of a vulgar patois has made a language full of imagery and harmony." With his poem the young country poet took Paris by storm. "Mirfeio" was crowned by the French Academy, Gounod composed an opera around it; Kenan, of whom Mistral was not a little afraid, addressed to its author words of flattery. Mistral, a littlo heady with success, was lionised in the capital, llut he stayed there only a short time. Parisian life was uncongenial to one who had spent the impressionable years beneath the blue skies of Provence, who had lived among shepherds and listened to men singing as they ploughed; who lmd heard stories and legends told in the rough speech of his nntive province. Mistral has £*iven in ''Memoires et Itecits" vivid pictures of his life on the farm at Maillane. His father was a yeoman, neither rich nor poor, but able to send his son to school. Mistral, who was fond of playing truant, nevertheless worked sufficiently hard at college to become licencio en droit. "Now, my dear son," said his father, "I have done my duty; von know more than I ever learned. Choose your career; I leave you free." The poet tella us tluit he thereupon threw his lawyer's gown to the winds and gave himself up to contemplation of the beauties of his native land. The result of this contemplation is a series of poems of unequalled value, and the reconstruction of a language. To Mistral it seemed that his mission was to sing the praises of his land in her own tongue. That strange language formed from the dialects spoken around Saint Hcmy had lain despised and dying until Mistral, like a good Samaritan, restored its strength and clothed it with a new richness. How the language originated Mistral to',ls us in his "Memoires." On Sum];'.u-o v.-.<i;: »„ and Vespers at the Carmelite Church. Our places v.*ere behind the High Altar. One Sunday the idea came into my h/ad to render in Provencal verse the Penitential Pnalms, so in the half opened book I began furtively to scrib'ble doivn my version in pencil. r >*!>!» ba-rne mn r.iro, Sarai pur; lavas mo leu, i: Vfixlnii ~u i. :i I. - •'iii'a'.'" la tnfo <!-■ neu I

Roumanille who was in ehnrjco catr.e behind tne, read it and then showed it to the He'd* master. The Jntter, it seem*, viewed the matter leniently. And so after Vespers, rinvinj? «;ir walk around" tho v«r,}])u*<". s. Koumumile called me to hiw. ''Bo, niy little Mistral, you nmuse yourself by writing verses in Provencal. Would you like me to repeat some verses? Listen I** Koumanille then read .nomo verses of his own.

It has been said that Mistral regarded his poetry as nothing more than a means of developing his language. Be this as it may, he was quick to see that a wide publicity could he attained only through the medium of translation, so that poems written originally for his compatriots have been translated into English. French, German and Italian. Some of the original beauty of his works must necessarily have been Jost in the process. A translation, however good, cannot reproduce the sonorousness and richness of a language which seems more suited to Orand Opera than to everyday uses. "It is," says a French critic of reput \ "too t;nv. too full of harmonies and onomatopoeia." In order to enjoy Mistral at all, it is necessary to surrender oneself completely to the charms of Provence. To him it is an earthly paradise; his soul is steeped in its beauty. Ho is enchanted with its scenery, the perfume of its flowers, its blue skies. At times this love of country leads him into exaggerations and minute descriptions of obscuro places. "Mirfeio," which ia generally regarded as hia masterpiece, appeared in 1859 with a dedication to Lamartinc. The story, which ho tells in twelve cantos, is a simple one —the love of a charming child of fifteen for a handsome youth, Vincen, tho son of a poor basket maker. Tho girl is the daughter of a wealthyfarmer, and her father and mother nre violently opposed to the marriage. Mir&io, in dispair, runs away from homo and across the Rhone to seek the aid of the three Marys, Mary Magdalen, Mary the- mother of James and John, and Mary the mother of James the Less. Overcome by the fierce rays of the sun on Jier journey, she is found in a wayside chapel unconscious before the altar. She dies.

The poem depends for its success upon Mistral's great power of description. The daily lives of the Provencal peasants, the harvesting, the gathering of the olives, are depicted with great naturalness and simplicity. One feels that the poem has sprung from the heart. The picture he gives of the lovers is delightful:—

Mirfcio loved a little talking And at table stayed With Vincen son to Mnster Arobroi, Both together chatted. And their-heads would come together, Part and come together like Two Cabridello flowers in & merry wind.

Often the poem has tho beauty of Virgil's Eclogues. Our ears are delighted with its music, but our hearts remain unmoved. Over tho fate of Mir&io one cannot shed a tear.

"Calendau" (1867). over which the poet spent seven years, met with small success. The story is concerned with a fisher lad who, to win his beloved, accomplishes deeds of the greatest daring. Into this long epic Mistral introduces verses and legends of bygone days. His language is often magnificent, and the poem iB full of imagery. Yet the characters appear unreal and jacking in depth. It is perhaps in some of his shorter poems published under the title, "The Golden Islands" that the poet is heard at hia best. In "L'ou Trcsor dou Felibridge" Mistral has collected all the legends and proverbs of his country. He tried his hand as a playwright with an historical draina, "La Rsnio Jano," but the play was not successful. The reader continually has his attention diverted from the niai'i theme. Provence appears to have pro dueed no dramatic literature of the first importance.

One wonders if much general interest in Mistral's poetrv will be revived by his centenary which occurs this vo&r In Ms own country he lemains aupr«na. His cult flourishes, keeping alive the memory of one who fine, noble afd sincere.

In his old age Mistral continued to live a simple and austere life in h"'» house at Maillane. He rose at seven and fttc frugally. He spent much time in answering letters from admirers HTid in receiving visitors in his stuHv. f plain white-was.hcd room which overlooked a rustic garden. To the last he retained his handsome features.